Silent Understanding
by parmakai66
Summary: Tag to The Wall: Kim’s thoughts as the bullets were zinging over head
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No infringement intended to the unit or its producers.

Tag to the Wall:

**Summary: Kim's thoughts as the bullets were zinging over head and then later when she tried to make sense of it all. **

**Part One**

I never told Bob what I knew about Tiffy or how Molly lost our money, which is completely unlike me because I tell him everything, sometimes too much. But regardless of my secret, Bob knew that something was up between us. He's good like that, he knows me too well. So when we got here tonight and he caught me avoiding both of them, it resulted in a sidebar conversation. I don't think I gave him any answers he wanted to hear. He just gave me that look of his that said only one thing…._I know you are holding something back from me and you're going to tell me later … one way or the other. _It's hard for me to hide anything from him. He gets this expression on his face that means business and then his eyes bore right through me …. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why he's so damn good at what he does with the unit.

Maybe it made more sense to him when Tiffy got up to give her drunken toast to the Colonel and his wife. As I scanned the faces at the table, I found a mixed bag of reactions. There was the _where the frak is she going with this _expression that adored most of Alpha team's faces, the _I can't believe she is going to say this _look on Molly and Mrs. Ryan's face and the _if she says one more word I'm going to kill her _portrait that was burned on the Colonel's features. At that moment it became crystal clear to me that Tiffy wasn't meeting just any friend at the motel in town. The only friend she was meeting was sitting right here at this table, next to his new wife and even though I was still really pissed at her, I just couldn't stand by and let her make an ass out of herself. I had to interrupt before she embarrassed herself another second … before she admitted to sleeping with the man right in front of her husband. She'll thank me later. I think.

I should get a medal for smooth talking. I can't even remember what bull came spewing out of my mouth, but whatever it was it worked to put Tiffy back in her place and relax the Colonel before he popped a blood vessel. And I do believe I've just become Mrs. Ryan's new best friend based on the look of relief that washed over her face after I averted the near disaster. But instead of getting a medal, I was the recipient of Bob's cold hard stare that said I had a lot of explaining to do when we got home. While the attribute will make him a great father when Serena is in her teens, it doesn't work too well on me. At least in theory anyway.

But if by some miracle, I actually make it home tonight, I swear I'll tell him everything. Since my husband and his buddies are the only ones doing a damn thing to protect me from these mad men with guns, the only person I need to be true too is the one that shares his life with me.

The bullets are zinging over my head faster than I can imagine. The sound is exploding in my ears in slow motion and all I can think about are the relationships that brought me here. Not my family or my kids or how the stained carpet that I'm staring at may be the last thing that I see. In the distance I hear screams, maybe from Tiffy or Molly or maybe even me. The grunts of death surround me and I pray that it is no one that I know. For all those stern looks Bob has given me tonight, I wish his arms were around me now, protecting me from this madness, like he did the night after one of my dedicated listeners tried to rape me.

Except that just like that night …in a strange way I don't really need him. This table that I'm under and the wall that I'm behind are doing nearly the same thing that his physical presence would provide. I am quiet so I don't draw fire and I stay low out of the line of sight. I shield my stomach with the metal leg of the table to protect my unborn son. I spin my wedding ring with my thumb which brings me some odd comfort. I count down the seconds until this is over and I can breathe again. And I will breathe again, when all this is over.

In a blink the room fills with silence which is quickly replaced with the rumbling voice of the Colonel blasting orders to his men. As the melee settles around me a warm sticky sensation shudders through my soul. I hear Bob's voice reverberate in my ear as I pull my hand up from my side.

"Kim? Kim are you okay?"

Those crystal clear eyes of his are what got me so many years ago, when he warmed my heart at that bar. It's what I live to stare into every night, to see the love he has for me, the understanding that holds us together. Tonight no words are needed to convey our feelings for each other. I hold out my hand covered in its crimson glove and stare at it in disbelief. Was the agony I felt just transferred into words instead of pain? I search Bob's face for answers and am met with another questioning glare. Yet this one is different … filled with concern and decorated with an icy crispness to remind me that this is still business no matter what.

"Bob, I'm bleeding," I whisper wondering whether sound even made it to my lips. As I blink the tears away, I feel his warmth envelop me and that's all the information I need. For now anyway.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: No infringement intended to the unit or its producers.

Tag to the Wall:

**Summary: Kim's thoughts as the bullets were zinging over head and then later when she tried to make sense of it all. **

Part two:

It's an odd sensation to be a patient in a crowded emergency room. People move quickly going about their jobs, forgetting that you are lying there completely confused. And scared. The blur of lights, the hollow ping of the three monitors attached to me and the unending pain in my belly are all grim reminders why I am here. I feel suffocated even though oxygen is being pumped into my lungs. I feel imprisoned even though I can move freely on the bed. The commotion from the hallway reminds me those that were with me are far worse off than me but who exactly that is, is lost to me.

I was one of four that were shot and survived in this foray. According to Bob I was barely grazed. My perspective is that a chunk of skin was forcibly removed from my body without my okay. It still amazes me that it could happen so painlessly. My mind keeps reeling backward to find the moment when a bullet sideswiped my skin. Maybe it was within those first few seconds when those eight armed men crashed the party, or when Molly shoved me to the floor, or when Bob and Hector stepped over my legs to return fire, or when I somehow managed to crawl behind the wall and under the table to shield myself. I have no answers, yet it haunts me because it has put my unborn son into jeopardy.

"Hey."

His voice pulls me from my reviver and I wonder how long he's been there watching me. I blink and look into those eyes noticing the iciness is gone and only warmth remains.

"Are you okay? You're heart rate just went up."

"I was thinking…trying to figure out when I got shot."

"Why does it matter?"

I wonder why that's so important to me as I watch him intertwine his fingers with mine. Why do I want to remember? I can tell by his look he's asking that in his mind. There are so many more things to be concerned with at this moment, but my mind can only grasp onto one. The moment that brought me here and the chaos I've been subjected to nearly half the night. I glance to the right and realize he and I are barely alone. "Why is there an MP at the door?" I ask giving him one my own questioning glares.

"Ha," he chuckles glancing over his shoulder to confirm the guard is still standing there. "I posted him there for your protection."

"From who?" Panic floods through my body again and I begin to wonder just what kinda mess then team had brought home this time. _Sometimes they are no better than the alley cat, _I note as Bob runs his fingers through my hair. It's weird how his touch can calm me when I least expect it. Hours ago I felt strong without him and yet now if he left my side, I would be lost.

"Tiffy," he says with a smile. "She is ah a little …"

"Trashed?"

"Yeah, that's one way to put it," Bob replied kissing my knuckles in the way that I love. "She was hysterical when she found out you were injured and when the doctor talked about the baby … She ah… pffft…Mack and I decided the only way you were going to get through this was if the MP's barred the door."

"Serena?" I ask grimacing as a contraction riddles my body. I squeeze Bob's hand tightly and hear him mumble something in my ear as I try to breathe through pain that makes no sense to me. My son is not due for weeks but tonight will make his entrance to this world... rather abruptly.

"It won't be long now. They're getting closer together."

I hear his voice through the static as he reads the monitors above me and vocalizes what they mean while I push through the last piece of pain. It amazes me that he is much more than a soldier and I wonder what other feats of magic are hidden up his sleeve. At this moment though, I need him just to be with me and get me through this madness. Why I think that anything in our life can occur normally is ludicrous. It makes sense that on the night I fight with my friends, yet save my alpha sister and my husband's boss from certain death, rogue gunmen appear and send me into labor prematurely.

"Where's Serena?" I gasp when the pressure on my chest finally is relieved.

"Beau and Cindy picked her up from the sitter and took her back to our house," he informs me.

"Was anyone else hurt?" I ask these questions mindlessly to distract myself from my predicament. I'm scared like hell and even though his presence at my side calms me, a flood of things concern me. _Like the fact that I will deliver our son tonight, _I reflect silently. I'm worried that it's too early for him. I wonder if Bob is worried as I look into his eyes.

"Jonas and Mrs. Ryan," he mutters looking down at me. "What?" he asks catching that look on my face.

"Are you scared? I mean, men with guns got onto the base and shot at us and then baby, what if he doesn't may…"

"Kim," he cuts me off before I hyperventilate. "The baby is okay, alright?" He runs his fingers down the side of my face and kisses my forehead. "He's just making his entrance a little sooner than expected that's all."

"You sure you're not just saying that?" I ask even though I know my son is okay. The excitement of the night, the bullet hole in my skin and the stress my body has just been through has taxed my patience enough, but I still know in my heart that he is okay.

"No, I'm not just saying that," he answers softly. "The doc said you were already dilated. The medicine they gave you is just moving things along a little faster than you're comfortable with. It will all be over soon."

The blank expression on his face reminds me that his training as taken over. Bob has stowed his concern and worry in order to get me through this peacefully. I watch his eyes carefully knowing in my heart that there some things he will never be able to answer for me, not why or who or how and for now that's okay. I've learned this past year that part of the deal with being his wife is the silent understanding between us.

Another contraction rattles through me and I close my eyes to ride it out. I try to think of other things, a brighter day, there's laundry to be done, and that my son doesn't have a name… anything to distract me.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: No infringement intended to the unit or its producers.

Tag to the Wall:

**Summary: Kim's thoughts as the bullets were zinging over head and then later when she tried to make sense of it all. **

**Part three**

There is something to be said about watching your husband sleep, especially when it's in a chair at the side of your hospital bed. I know it can't be comfortable for him all slumped over like that. His neck is going to hurt when he wakes up and he's going to be crabby at best. At worst I'm going to have to hear about it all day…his little reminders that he didn't get any sleep because he stayed at my bedside just to make sure we, the baby and me, were okay. I told him to go home at least ten times, but he insisted on staying just to be sure.

To be sure of what, I don't know. Our child is sleeping peacefully in the NICU, while his mother is not. I cannot get comfortable in this bed. I cannot get comfortable with what has happened, and I cannot get comfortable with what my friends have done. If they actually are my friends, that is.

A normal person can make choices in life, pick a job, pick a husband, pick the color of the walls of the house, but when you're married to the army and your husband is in the unit … you can't pick a damn thing. I'm attached to Tiffy and Molly because of my husband's job, yet had I met these women on the street, they would not have become my friends. Despite my emotional attachment to them, I don't even want them to be my friends. I told them less than a day ago to go to hell because they screwed me. Royally. And enjoy it? Hell no I didn't enjoy it.

Molly has lied to me from the start …from that lie that we had to live in that house across the street from hers to the moment that she lied to me about Tiffy and then lost my money, and lied about that too. And Tiffy! Tiffy's lies about who she's sleeping with and then hides the evidence right under her husband's nose? Doesn't Mack ever snoop? It took me all of twenty seconds to find the picture! Ugh! I'm supposed to call these people my friends?

"Kim."

I roll my head to the side and look into my husband's eyes. "Hey baby," I mutter sleepily trying to play it off that I've been sleeping this whole time.

"Wha'ja thinking about?"

"What makes you think that I'm thinking?" I ask with an innocent expression on my face.

"Oh, maybe that the monitor just went nuts or that you have tears in your eyes," he answers.

Why I think I can keep anything from this man I share my life with is a mystery to me. He's away enough for the little things to go unnoticed, but the big things that worry me, are written all over my face. When the bullets were zinging over my head I swore I would tell him my secrets, yet I made a vow to my friend and now I'm stuck in a place that does me no good to myself or my baby.

"What is it?" he prods me gently as he moves from the chair to the bed.

"Do the guys on your team ever let you down?" I blurt out, unable to hold it in anymore. I already know that his answer will be no….the famed alpha team doesn't work that way. _Too bad their wives can't be so cohesive, _I think as I search for words to explain myself. "I mean get on your nerves?"

"Like Tiffy and Molly were last night?"

"Something like that," I replied scooting around on the bed. A grimace ripples across my face as I try to get comfortable. "What's that saying, keep your enemies closer than your friends?"

"That's not quite how it goes babe," Bob chuckles as he runs his hand down the side of my cheek. "You wanna talk about it?"

"It was just ah….a stupid girl fight," I finally concede. "Except in the whole grand scheme of things, it's nothing important now." I shake my head as I realize that just like the rules of the unit, I cannot break the confidence of my sisters. The complexities of the web in which we exist reach farther than this link between him and me. No matter what Tiffy has done, no matter what lie she has caught me up in, I cannot tell Bob her secret, to do so would jeopardize his standing in the team, with his boss and his life.

"It's hard for our friends to live up to our expectations, sometimes. If Tiffy or Molly let you down, you have the luxury of letting things repair themselves on their own. I know everything is magnified for you in that moment because of the added stress of holding the things together while I'm gone," Bob replies quietly. "It's the same for us in the field, except my window of recovery is much smaller because on a mission time is moving much faster."

"I know. You need to be able to trust the team to have your back, so you can't be caught up in meaningless differences," I remark shuffling my body against the mattress.

"I know the team will always have my back regardless of our differences," Bob reminds me. "Just like you had Tiffy's back last night. You said it last night, in a strange sense you, Tiffy and Molly are your own unit."

"Gunless unit members," I grumbled as I lace my fingers into his.

"You don't need guns to be resourceful," Bob says with a smile, then break out into a laugh. "I may be good …great at my job, but domestically I'm…"

"Inept?" I laugh at him.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I can't even think of a name for our baby."

_Oh, our baby, _I think suddenly remembering why I am lying here. "Don't feel bad … I didn't think of any names while I was pregnant."

"What were you doing all this time?"

I laugh in embarrassment and then consider his statement carefully. Some things matter a lot in life. A name for a child takes second fiddle comprehending our place. The code between us is a silent understanding, just as we volunteer for service, we exist as we live.

THE END


End file.
